Discovery
by MidniteDancer
Summary: Germany's feeling odd about Italy. Why does he care so much? GerIta Yaoi


Germany looked on from behind the bushes. Italy had just run from camp—again. He'd found him here, talking to a pretty girl.

"Oh, so you all just run away. That must've been rough."

"Yes, but now I have you here to cheer me up! You're practically a miracle, aren't you? You're so much better than Germany could ever be…"

That cut. Germany moved swiftly. He slid from behind the bushes and punched Italy in the kidney. The Italian passed out. Before he hit the ground Germany grabbed him and slung the slight man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The girl just stood there looking at him in shock. She must have been slow because she didn't make a sound as the man she was just talking to was assaulted by a large, angry, slightly blushing German. "Sorry about that. He's needed elsewhere; I'll make sure he won't bother you again." Then he turned and strode off. What he didn't notice was that the girl behind him was smiling to herself.

A while down the road he felt the Italian stir, and then he started touching his bottom (probably something he's picked up from his big brother France). The German's face flushed but he didn't stop moving. "Pat, pat, pat. Oh, I touched something soft… It's just Germany's ass." He made no acknowledgement to Italy's statement or consciousness.

After a while, "Ve~ Germany that hurt." Germany said nothing. "Ne, ne, Germany?"

"You defected again."

Italy squirmed, he'd forgotten about that. "B-But I don't want to fight Britain! I'm not strong enough, and he's really scary!"

"So you were going to let me fight him alone?"

Italy grew still, falling for the guilt trip, "Doitsu…" He said nothing, continuing to walk down the road. "Ve~ where are we going, Doitsu?"

"Back to my house to finish your training." He felt Italy's head droop in disappointment. For some reason, he really wanted to ask him if he meant what he said to the girl. He kept the impulse in check, though. Besides, why should he care what he talks to women about?

~X~

When the got to Germany's house he let the Italian make them dinner, because he noticed how late it was. And he knew cooking would make Italy feel better. While Italy flitted around the kitchen, humming some nonsense tune, Germany made his way to his study.

He sat down in his well worn but very comfortable old leather chair. The desk in front of him had a small stack of file folders, some spare paper, and a couple of pens adorning its surface. Germany grimaced; he was going to have to straighten it up soon. As it was, he put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his face in frustration. Since when has he become so protective over Italy? If it was anyone else he would have beaten him senseless for leaving and them probably kill him, if it was for the at least the second time. Italy runs away about once a week, why the hell does he still put up with this dummkomp?

The door clicked open. Italy found himself looking at the business end of a gun as he peeked into Germany's study. He squeaked. Germany let out the breath he was holding and lowered the gun, "I thought I told you to knock or something."

"I-I did, but you didn't answer. And, besides, your pasta's done."

Germany put the gun back in its respective drawer, "Yes, I'll be right out."

"Actually," he slid the rest of the way inside. Germany now saw that he was holding a tray of food, "I was wondering if you'd want to eat in here!"

Verdammt! Why wasn't he able to stay mad at him? "Yes that's fine." Italy beamed and skipped over to the sofa along one side of the room. Germany got up and moved the coffee table closer to them.

Of course it was delicious. Italy smiled wider and blushed a little when Germany said so. Along with the pasta was some red wine, even though the German would have certainly preferred a good beer. For a while they both sat contentedly, eating the pasta and sipping the wine.

Well, Italy did anyway. Germany felt slightly awkward in such a casual setting. Ever since he became allies with Italy he's been less and less… uptight.

He wasn't sure yet whether it that was a good or a bad thing.

When Italy finished the sighed and snuggled into Germany. Usually he hated people getting anywhere near him, but the warm weight on his arm was… nice. He looked down at the Italian, brunette hair slightly tousled, light tan skin contrasting to his blue uniform, his face was round, almost childlike, and, with a small smile playing with his lips, he radiated trust and innocence.

Germany felt his face heat up as inappropriate thoughts consisting of the trusting Italian flooded his mind. Mortified, he quickly squashed the thoughts. "I'll take the dishes out," het got up and carefully kept his scorching face away from Italy who let out a small "Ve~" at his absence.

Out in the kitchen he took a couple of moments to douse his face in some cold water. He really should stop with the magazines. Why? Just, why? This was Italy he was talking about, clingy, weak, slow, beautiful Italy. What, what was that last one? He gave an audible sigh. Perhaps he needed a vacation.

When he got back he found that Italy was curled up in the spot he'd vacated. He glanced at the time. 7 o'clock. How could he fall asleep so quickly? He sighed again. Germany bent to pick him up but stopped for a moment. Italy had said he'd been a religious man in his past and now it seemed plainly obvious. His face was absolutely angelic. He seemed to radiate a kindness and trustworthiness that naturally calmed and soothed.

It was quite obvious that Italy was never meant to be a fighter, and now Germany almost felt guilty for making him to. He'd never felt as close to anyone before, save for Prussia. But he'd disappeared years ago, Germany had no idea where he could be.

He shoved the memory away and focused on what he was doing right now. He'd hate to wake the Italian so, as gently as he could, he lifted the man up bridal style. Italy sighed contently and gripped the front of Ludwig's shirt, making the German flush again. Without thinking, he walked to his own bedroom, but stopped abruptly outside the door. If one of his hands were free he would have facepalmed. Again, why?

Mentally reprimanding himself, he walked to the guest room, Of course, if Italy woke up sometime during the night he would make his way to curl up beside Germany, but that didn't mean he should be taking him there himself. He lay the sleeping Italian on the bed and removed his shoes, tie, and jacket. Then he paused for a moment, Italy usually sleeps naked… No, he'll just take off his shirt. He lifted Italy's arms over his head then gripped the white cotton, taking care not to touch the light olive skin. Feliciano moaned softly as the fabric shifted its way up his torso. He wriggles unconsciously, making it easier to remove the shirt. Ludwig swallowed, still gripping the now free shirt, his eyes drinking in the sight of the Italian. Of course, this wasn't the first time Ludwig's seen Feliciano without a shirt, it wasn't the first time he's seen him sleeping (over)half naked. But it was the first time he's undressed him. Physically, anyway.

Feliciano wasn't muscular, but he was slender. The lightly olive toned chest rose and fell with the sleeping breaths. His brunette hair looked extremely soft to the touch and it took a good bit of will power not to reach out and do so.

Germany was breathing quite heavily now. He forced himself to stop, turn, and walk away. Back in his room he tried to calm himself down. Then he noticed he was still holding Feliciano's shirt. Almost without thinking, he inhaled its scent. It smelled of pasta and sauce, of course, but also something unique to the Italian. Something Ludwig couldn't place. It also smelled slightly of himself.

Verdammt, this wasn't helping. He now had another problem that needed taking care of.

Under his bead was a Christmas wrapped box, to anyone who didn't fully understand the situation, this may just have been an old gift he didn't like, hardly worth notice. Now he pulled it out. Inside was a bunch of magazines, THOSES kinds of magazines. But he didn't pull any of them out; instead he retrieved at singular tan envelope. Within the envelope were about a doze pictures of one person. He only pulled them out when 'provoked' a certain way. Out of everything he owned in such a category, these simple photographs were his most embarrassing possessions. The envelope and its contents were a gift from Japan.

He's been using them a lot more frequently.

Deciding to keep it simple, he withdrew his favorite. Feliciano was washing himself in a sparkling creek, making himself wet and dripping. Evidently, he'd heard something (probably Japan) in the bushes. His arms and the wash cloth had come up to cover his torso, much like a girl would, and his body was partially turned away from the camera, giving Ludwig a delicious view of his ass. His face, though, was looking towards the bushes, his soft lips partially open. And his eyes were fearful, but not too much so. Italy is more afraid of people than anything in the wild.

~X~

Sometimes Italy had the worst timing. Evidently, He'd just woken up to find himself alone in the guest bed and decided to come sleep with Germany. Germany himself hadn't noticed that the door had opened. His hand, well lubricated from the lotion Hungary got him for Christmas that he kept at his bedside, was wrapped around himself and was pumping furiously.

"Feliciano," he groaned as he came into his cupped hand, to keep from soiling the sheets. For a while he just lay there, breathing deeply. It was then he felt the eyes on him. He looked up to see a pair of amber eyes watching him from the doorway. Immediately his face heated up. He snatched a tissue, also from his bedside, to clean his hand. "Uh… perhaps you should sleep by yourself tonight, Italy."

Italy, like always, was completely naked but for a pillow he grabbed to cover his vital regions. He walked into the room to better look at Germany. "You said my name." It wasn't a question.

"Uh… Yeah." Germany never looked at him as his face went a deeper shade of red.

"Why?" Germany said nothing.

The Italian moved closer to the bed and picked something up. Germany bit back a groan. He'd completely forgotten about the picture. Italy simply inspected it. "It's a really good picture," he said, moving to set it down on a nearby dresser, "One would think, though, that' you'd prefer the real thing." Germany still didn't say anything. When Italy turned around to put the picture down, Germany's eyes were drawn to that perfectly smooth perky ass that he seemed almost proud to display.

Italy's head turned to look at Germany. His eyes were devious and his mouth was smirking. The picture perfect come-and-get-me look.

His thinking suddenly clouded and he barely noticed how he pinned the smaller man to the dresser and passionately kissed him. Feliciano's rear was taunting Ludwig's dick, which was quickly becoming hard again. The Italian groaned and Ludwig had to force himself not to take him now.

He wanted Feliciano to beg.

He broke the kiss and started nipping the skin on his neck and ear, sucking on his neck to mark him. Feli rotated his hips. He grunted and managed to ask, "Italy, are you sure you want this?"

"Call me by my other name."

His voice tore through Ludwig like fire, "Feliciano…"

"I've wanted you for a long time Doitsu."

"Call me by my other name."

The German could feel his lover smile, "Ludwig…" He reached up and pulled Feliciano's hair, exposing him for another kiss. Suddenly, Feliciano thrust his hips violently foreword and cried out. Ludwig paused, then he pulled his hair again, gently this time. The smaller man groaned loudly and continued to swivel his hips. _The curl?_ He pulled it separately. "Ludwig!"

Roughly, he kissed the Italian again and rubbed his hands over every inch of exotic exposed olive skin he could, trying to be as close as possible despite him still being fully clothed. Feliciano, evidently feeling the same, turned and began to undress the German. First, the black tank top was shucked over his torso and tossed somewhere. Then his pants were, with excruciating slowness, unbuttoned and removed. And finally the offending boxers were flung away with the other articles of clothing.

Deftly, Ludwig lifted the smaller man and placed him on the bed. He placed himself on top of him and kissed him again. Feliciano tasted of exotic spices, nearly intoxicating him. Slowly, he made his way down his body, teasing his nipples, ravishing his legs, and finally pausing at his member, breathing hotly on him. The sounds Feliciano emitted were erotic to an extreme. "L-Ludwig… ha… what are you doing—Ahh!" He'd taken the smaller man into his mouth and was sucking firmly. Obviously his first, Feliciano started to squirm and thrust his hips. Without removing his mouth, Ludwig firmly held his lover's hips down so he'd keep from choking him.

"Ludwig… something… haaa… I feel," his hands twisted the sheets, his body now glistening with sweat. Ludwig started to hum, taking him farther into his throat. "Ludwig! Ahhh…!" He came in Ludwig's mouth.

Ludwig felt the small body beneath him tighten and fluid filled his mouth, quite a bit more than he expected actually. He had to focus to keep from clenching his teeth to keep himself from release.

As Feliciano panted from the orgasm, Ludwig removed his mouth and swallowed the cum. He noticed that his lover was drowsy and quickly remedied that by pulling his curl. The Italian groaned and rotated his hips once again. Ludwig kissed him full on the mouth, letting him taste himself mixed with his lover. "Don't start relaxing yet," his voice was husky with lust, "Now it's my turn." He obediently nodded.

Ludwig gave another long drugging kiss. As he pulled away, lips connected by a silver strand of saliva, Feliciano murmured, "Ludwig, take me, please."

The begging itself was almost enough to send the German over the edge. He pushed himself away from the Italian, earning him a small mournful, "Ve~ Ludwig?"

"Hold on, Feli," he retrieved a handful of lotion and began to apply it to his throbbing penis, "I want this to hurt as little as possible." Feliciano nodded his head but didn't seem to really hear, he squirmed as he watched the blond apply the lotion. He took another pump of the lotion and smeared it thickly on his fingers.

He leaned down to kiss Feliciano again, gently nudging his legs which he eagerly spread. He made sure the brunette was preoccupied with the kiss before pushing one finger into him. Feliciano inhaled sharply at the new discomfort in his body and shifted to accommodate the intrusion. Ludwig finished the kissed and moved his attention to Feliciano's sensitive neck. Once the slight body beneath him began to push gently on his finger he inserted a second, again drawing a soft cry. As his mouth worked on Feliciano's neck his fingers were gently moving, stretching and scissoring, preparing the brunette. Finally, the third finger, receiving another reaction.

He kissed Feliciano's lusciously engorged lips once more before removing his fingers and replacing them with his throbbing cock. The smaller man cried out, louder than before, and clung to Ludwig. The feel of simply being inside Feliciano was enough to put him on the edge, but he forced himself to pause and let him get used to the change.

Feliciano arched against the blond, "Ahh-Ludwig!" It was all the encouragement he needed. He began to thrust in and out, slowly at first, but the pace quickened as Feliciano kept making noises more erotic than any porn he's ever seen. The Italian's hands trailed fire in their wake as they touched every part of Ludwig's skin they could. He gripped Ludwig's shoulders, digging his nails into his flesh, stroked his chest, and ran his fingers through his now damp and loose hair. Feliciano thought he somehow looked even more handsome with his hair loose.

Instinctively, Feliciano wrapped his legs around Ludwig's waist as his pace became more frenzied and inconsistent. Sometime before, although he didn't realize it, he'd snaked his hand to Feliciano's own need and was pumping it in rhythm with his thrusts. They were both panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Ludwig was only aware of the mad wrapped around him. The heat coming off his body, his tight sheath around his member, his flushed face and engorged lips, and that lustful look in his eyes that turned them so dark they may have been black. Just looking at his lover's face twist with pleasure was almost enough to send him over. "Feli," he was nearly breathless, "Feli, cum with me, please."

Simply hearing those husky words escape Ludwig's lips was enough to put Feliciano over. He screamed his lover's name as he came onto their chests. Ludwig felt Feli tighten around him and came into his lover's body. The pleasure that spiraled through his body was intense enough to almost make him see black.

For a couple of minutes they road the aftershocks and held each other, trying to regain their breath. Softly, Ludwig heard Feliciano whisper into his ear, "Ti amo, Ludwig."

He looked into the Italian's eyes and saw him smile, "I-Ich libe dich." The smile grew wider and Feli snuggled into Ludwig's chest before falling asleep.

Ludwig lay there for a long time just holding Feliciano, stroking his hair and feeling him breathe. He considered getting up early to make them breakfast but promptly discarded the idea. He wanted to be with Feli when he awoke. Blushing to himself he kissed the top of the brunette's hair and whispered, "Ich libe dich," before he too fell into slumber.

~x~X~x~

A/N Well, this was a present for my 500 pageviews on DiveantArt. But I give it to you here as well. Enjoy!


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